Author: Joe Class III
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What Holds
Trust is something given out when we see consistency in people who show up when it costs them something. Some call that guarded. We’re learning to call it wisdom. Learning what holds.
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Twice
I told her the wrong date. Twice. The calendar. It was right there between us. She trusted me because I was ahead of her in line.
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Seeing Together
If you’ve ever caught yourself excusing behavior from your side that you’d condemn from the other, this 5-minute parable is for you. Fair warning: it doesn’t pick sides. And it doesn’t let anyone off the hook.
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ITS A TRAP!!
The post showed up in my feed wrapped in Saturday night memories. HeeHaw. Family gathered around the TV. The doctor’s simple advice that always got a laugh. Then came the punch about ICE protests, and my fingers moved toward the keyboard. That’s when I recognized what was happening.
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When Nobody’s Watching
The afternoon sun hit her face. Keys in hand, she did the math. Rent in nine days. Electric past due. Javier needed new shoes. Not wanted. Needed. Forty-three dollars in checking. Then she saw it.
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Which Direction Leads Home
Once, a long time ago, I had a friend. He was someone who I knew didn’t agree with me on, well, pretty much everything, including politics. He called me an idiot for believing the way I did, and it was people like me who made it harder for people like him to give away money,…
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The Jacket
You’re invited to the party of a lifetime. At the door, someone hands you the gift of a lifetime. Do you accept it?
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They Were Watching
My friends stood at the edge of the pool deck. Family. People who knew me for years and some who just met me. Some close to where I stood. Others farther away, just watching. And that’s the part I can’t shake. They were watching. Clear, cool water. Not cold but cool. The right temperature for…
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Stay in the Room
Everyone’s shouting. No one’s listening. I’m choosing a different path starting with one question I can’t stop asking myself.
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Still Bleeding
Blood is pouring from me, from an open wound. Ripped apart, emotionally cut to the bone by those closest to me. Or at least that’s what it felt like to me. I was patiently waiting, longing for a conversation. Even an apology would’ve been nice. At the very least my expectation was a friend, a…
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If No One Has Asked You Lately
After my brother James died, people moved on. They assumed I had too. I don’t know that they knew what to say anymore. Either way, they stopped asking. I was forgotten. I wasn’t bitter. I wasn’t unapproachable. I was grieving alone, waiting for someone to remember I was still here. No one came. I felt…
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Not Until They Are 25
 “The drinking age should be 25, not 21.” I’m walking through Target when I hear this. A kid in a hoodie, maybe 17 to 23, talking to his friend in the energy drink aisle. It stops me cold. Not because it’s wrong. Because it might be right. GenXers spent our youth figuring out who…
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The Fog Rolled In
Friday morning. That was the day I resigned. Three sentences. Three cardboard boxes with seventeen years inside. Pastor Dan walks in while I’m wrapping the African violet Martha Hennigan gave me when my husband died. “What’s happening, Hannah?” Concerned. Pastoral. I try to explain. The church feels less like a community and more like an…
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A Prayer For My Own Mouth
David wrote Psalm 12 when he was surrounded by people who sounded good. Their words sparkled, shining and glittering. They said the right things at the right times, collecting honors for their eloquence, their piety, their public performances of faithfulness. But underneath, something was rotten. “Help, God—the bottom has fallen out! True believers are fast…
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The Unity I Talk About
I’ve nodded at Psalm 133:1 my whole life like I understood it. Lately I’m wondering if I’ve confused unity with something easier: agreement, sameness, not fighting in public. Two recent stories helped me see something uncomfortable: most days, I’m not the one who flinches in the pew. I’m the one holding the keys.
